“Good memory. Do you want to come in?” She opened the door wider, and he stepped inside.
“Sure. Just for a minute though. I don’t want to keep you.” He followed her to the kitchen and stopped short when saw the pot of simmering sauce.
“Something smells good.”
“Thanks. It’s just spaghetti and meatballs,” she said as she emptied a box of pasta into the pot of boiling water.
“That’s a lot of pasta. If you need any help to eat it, let me know.” He grinned again and Kate laughed. He looked starving.
“Why don’t you join us? I’m sure Philippe won’t mind.”
At the mention of his friend’s name, Jack’s eyes clouded. “I didn’t realize you were expecting company.” A moment later, he added, “I’m just teasing, anyway. I told my brother that I’d meet him in about an hour for pizza and beers.”
“That sounds fun too.”
“Yeah. Well, I should probably get going. I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.” He stepped toward the front door and Kate followed.
“Well, thanks for stopping by. Which house is yours?”
“The gray one two doors down. We’re almost next-door neighbors. If you need anything, just holler. I’ll probably hear you.”
Kate hadn’t realized that he lived that close. She’d known he was on the same street.
Jack stepped outside as Philippe pulled into the driveway.
“I’ll talk to you later. Enjoy your date night.”
Kate opened her mouth to say it wasn’t a date night, but Jack was already gone and saying hello to Philippe as he got out of his car. She couldn’t hear the two of them but a moment later, they both laughed and Jack got into his car and drove off.
Kate held the door open for Philippe who was smiling and carrying a bag with two bottles of wine sticking out of it, and something else that she couldn’t quite make out.
“Hello, beautiful.” Philippe leaned in and kissed her lightly on the cheek.
He handed her the bag which she brought into the kitchen and set on the counter. He’d brought two bottles of a good Amarone, one of Kate’s favorite red Italian wines. And a gorgeous small bouquet of pink tulips in a square cut vase.
“These are lovely. Thank you!” She set the flowers in the middle of the island. She figured they’d eat there. When she turned back, Philippe had found the wine opener and was opening one of the bottles. She got two wine glasses from the cupboard. He poured them each a glass and handed one to her.
She took a small sip and sighed. The wine was wonderful, smooth and full-bodied.
“This is really good. Thank you.”
Philippe smiled and lifted his glass. “To a future best-selling author!” He tapped his glass against hers and she laughed, loving his enthusiasm. She also felt a bit of relief.
“Does that mean you didn’t hate my pages? I have to confess, I was worried about what you’d think,” she admitted.
“Of course I didn’t hate them. They’re actually quite good, better than I expected. There’s a few things here and there that I’ll point out, but they’re minor fixes. You have a solid premise. I’m looking forward to reading more.”
“You are? Really?” Kate was floored. She’d felt like she was imposing as it was.
“Really. When you finish your first draft, send it along. I’ll read and give you some big picture feedback. You’re on the right track though.”
“That’s incredibly generous of you. I’ll gladly take you up on it. And I’ll owe you another dinner.”
“I look forward to it.”
When the pasta was done, Kate drained it, then filled two plates with pasta, meatballs and sauce. She also set out parmesan cheese, bread and butter. They settled at the island and dove in. Philippe was impressed with the meatballs.
“These are amazing, as good as any I’ve had in a restaurant.”
Kate laughed. “Thank you. It’s one of the few things I know how to make well.”
They both went back for a second helping and then finished off one of the bottles of wine as they sat talking for well over an hour. Philippe had some great suggestions for her story which she knew would make it tighter and stronger. When they finished going over the feedback, he made her laugh telling her about his upcoming TV project and the crazy cast of characters that were involved.
“Filming starts in two weeks, and I won’t be around as much for a few months until the season wraps. I might get home a few weekends a month, hopefully.”
“Would it be easier to just live there full-time?” she wondered.
“Oh, much easier in some ways. But, I’d miss the island too much. This is what I consider home. As soon as I step off the plane and breathe in the Nantucket air, it’s like all the stress leaves my body. It’s kind of hard to explain.”
“No, I get it. That’s exactly how I feel too, though I’m usually arriving by ferry.”
“Do you think you’ll stay here? Or move back to Boston?”
“I’m really not sure. It depends how things go this winter and if I’m able to get enough freelance work to allow me to stay. There are more jobs in Boston.”
Philippe frowned at the thought.
“If the rest of your book is as good as your first chapters, hopefully you won’t have to worry about that.” His words gave her hope and made her feel excited to make his changes and continue with the story.
“Do you ever doubt that what you’ve written is good enough?” she asked. She was sure if he did, he was a long time ago, but still she was curious.
He smiled. “Yes, all the time. With every book actually.” His answer surprised her.
“Really? Still?”
“From what I hear, it’s normal. Most writers feel that way at some point in their process. So you’re in good company. Just keep going.”
“I will,” she promised.
“Well, I should probably get going. Unless you want to open that other bottle of wine? But then I might be here longer than you’d like. And I might forget about our agreement to just be friends?” He grinned, and she couldn’t help but laugh. He was like a mischievous child at times. A very good-looking, charming one to be sure. And she knew that more wine would be a very bad idea.
“I think I’ve had my limit of wine. And we both have to work tomorrow I think?” She wasn’t sure if he was or not, but she didn’t want to be feeling hung-over in the morning.
He stood. “Well, it was worth a shot, right? I’ll give you a call when I’m back on the island, and we’ll see how far along you are then.”
“That sounds, good. Thanks again for all of your help and for the wine, and flowers.”
“It was my pleasure, all of it.” Philippe wrapped her in a hug and kissed her cheek again before walking out the door.
Once he left, all the energy seemed to leave the room. Kate wondered if she’d done the right thing to discourage his interest. He’d been such good company, making her laugh all night and taking a sincere interest in her book. She appreciated that he cared. And he was certainly handsome, she definitely found him attractive. But there was still a little voice that seemed to whisper, “He’s not for you.” She’d learned in the past that it was usually a good idea to listen to that voice.
Chapter 12
Kristen had been sitting cross-legged on the floor of her studio for hours. The light was gorgeous all day, and the time had flown by. When the light changed, she started to notice her muscles growing stiff and an uncomfortable gnawing in her stomach. She hadn’t eaten since early morning. She yawned and stretched and assessed her work. And then she smiled. It had been a good day. Her latest painting was done, and she felt goose bumps as she looked at it. Now and then, what she envisioned matched what ended up on canvas, and it was both thrilling, and deeply satisfying.
She stood and went to the bathroom to wash her hands. And laughed when she saw her reflection in the mirror. She looked a fright. Her hair was in a tangled, messy ponytail and she had a smudge of b
lue paint on her cheek. She scrubbed it off and was debating between jumping in the shower and eating something, anything, when she heard a knock at the door.
She ignored it for a moment, wondering who it could be. The only people who would drop by were her sisters, and Sean but it was rare for any of them. Given how her last conversation with Sean went, she doubted it was him. It was probably Kate, and Kristen was sure if she checked her phone, which was charging in the bedroom, that she probably had a few missed calls. Maybe Kate would want to go grab a bite to eat. Kristen felt ready to celebrate the finishing of her painting, and she was starving with no food in the house.
She opened the door with a smile that faded as soon as she saw Andrew from the art gallery, standing on her doorstep. She hated that he was seeing her looking such a mess and was equally irritated that he hadn’t called first.
“I’m sorry to just drop by. I called several times first, but you didn’t answer. I was in the area and thought I’d try. Maybe you didn’t get the messages? I’m not usually so rude.” He looked as though he was regretting his impulse, and Kristen guessed her irritation was evident. She’d been told that her face was an open book. He looked so uncomfortable that she softened, her irritation faded, and she felt bad for him.
“It’s all right. I didn’t get any calls today. I’ve been working and had my phone charging in another room.”
He looked ever more uncomfortable. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your work. I’ll let you get back to it, we can set a time for another day. Or I can just call again, whatever is easiest.”
Kristen opened her door wide. “Come on in. I’m done for the day. You just caught me actually. I was debating whether to get in the shower or make something to eat, but the shower was winning.”
He laughed. “I promise I won’t keep you long. I met with my car guy, and he said the damage is really minimal, just a few hundred dollars.”
Kristen looked around for her purse. “I can write you a check now.”
“No, no, that’s not what I’m suggesting. I was serious when I said I’d like to feature a couple of your paintings.”
“Oh, okay. And you’ll be sure to deduct the money out of my commission then?”
He hesitated for just a second. “Yes, of course. Did you have any paintings in mind? If you have anything ready, that is.”
“I have a few in mind. But I just finished one today, that you might want to consider. It turned out pretty well.” She wasn’t one to brag, but she was excited by her newest painting and eager for him to see it. It felt like her best work yet.
A look came into his eyes, curiosity and a keen interest. “I’d love to see it. To see anything you have that’s ready.”
Kristen laughed. “I have a whole room of paintings. Follow me.”
She led him into her studio and first took him into a side room where she kept her completed works. At least twenty completed paintings lined the walls. She let him look around and pointed out the two that she had in mind. He nodded in appreciation. “Those are lovely. I’d happily take any of these though. You’re amazing.” He sounded so sincere that Kirsten felt herself blush a little. She never had gotten used to receiving compliments.
They went into the studio, to where the newly finished painting sat on its easel. Andrew stopped short and stared silently. He didn’t speak for several long moments.
“Wow. That’s simply gorgeous. You just finished it today?”
She nodded. “The light was perfect. I didn’t expect to finish today, but it came together.”
“It certainly did. I can have this one too?” He sounded like he was worried she might change his mind.
“Yes, and the other two as well, if you want them.”
“I want them. But this one, is really special.” He stared at it for another long moment and she wondered what he was thinking. He finally turned and told her. “I’d like to do a solo show for you with a few additional paintings if you’re amenable to that?” He was all business now, and Kristen was thrilled that he wanted to give her a show of her own.
“Of course. Pick out whichever ones you’d like.” They walked back into the room, and Andrew was like a kid in a candy store, as he looked around the room again. It was clear that he loved most of them and was having a hard time deciding. Finally, he settled on three more, and she saw that he was going for an ocean theme. All the paintings he chose featured the ocean and beach in some way.
They picked a date for the show that was several weeks out.
“I’ll stop by a few days before to collect the paintings.”
“I’ll have them ready and wrapped for you.”
Her stomach rumbled loudly and Kristen wanted to die of embarrassment.
“Sorry about that. I tend to forget to eat while I’m working.”
“I was actually on my way to get a burger at Flynn’s. Do you want to join me? If you don’t already have plans that is. And it’s the least I can do for barging in on you like his.” He grinned. “I could talk about art for hours. And I’d love to learn more about you and how you became the artist that you are.”
His enthusiasm was contagious and it would be fun to talk about art with someone who really understood her passion. Kristen was feeling antsy and on a high after finishing her painting. And she had a feeling that she’d enjoy his company.
“I’d love to. But I need a quick shower first. If you don’t mind waiting. I won’t be long.”
“Of course I don’t mind. I have some calls I need to make, so take your time.”
Kristen grabbed some clothes and towels and headed into the bathroom. The hot water felt wonderful, and she wished she could stay in longer, letting it wash over her. But, she didn’t want to be rude and keep Andrew waiting too long. Ten minutes later, she was done and changed into jeans and a flattering turquoise blue top. She dried her hair quickly, brushed her teeth and then she was ready.
When she came out of the bathroom, Andrew was just finishing a call. He smiled when he saw her. She grabbed her purse from the kitchen counter.
“I’m ready.”
Andrew insisted on driving, saying it was silly for them both to drive when Flynn’s was barely five minutes away. She climbed into his car, cringing for a moment when she saw the deep scratch on the side again. He saw her look.
“My guy assured me it’s really nothing. It’s going to be fixed next Tuesday. Don’t give it another thought.”
And she didn’t. For the next two hours, over messy burgers and fries and a couple of beers, Kristen had the best time she’d had in ages. Andrew was easy to talk to. They were both animated in their conversation, almost like when friends haven’t seen each other in a while and have so much to catch up on. They liked a lot of the same artists and disagreed on others. And they knew a lot of the same people.
“It’s surprising that we haven’t run into each other before this,” Andrew said at one point.
“I don’t really go out all that much. I go through stretches where I’m quite the hermit, actually. I like to go out, but with smaller groups. Big parties sap my energy.”
He nodded. “My twin sister is like that. We’re alike in a lot of ways, she loves the arts too. She’s a musician, a singer-songwriter. But she gets terrible stage fright.”
“Would I know of her?” Kristen wondered. She was intrigued that he had a twin sister.
He grinned. “You might. Cassie Everly”
Kristen’s jaw dropped. Andrew’s sister was huge. One of the biggest folk artists in the country and recently released a record that was climbing the charts. She’d just been humming along to her newest single as she drove into town the day before. It was getting a lot of airplay on the radio.
“That’s impressive. I love her music, and I can’t believe she still gets nervous to go on stage.”
“Cassie loves to perform once she gets going, but she needs to recharge after. I’m the opposite.”
“You are?”
“I get my energy f
rom being around people. And I love a good party. That’s why my job suits me so well. I get to surround myself with art-lovers, hold shows, go to art events, or any gathering really. It’s all good.”
“I always enjoy an art show, though I prefer when it’s someone else’s show. It’s more relaxing. I don’t love being the center of attention,” she admitted.
She saw understanding in his eyes. “I’ll be right there with you when we do the show. And the champagne will be flowing. That might help a little.”
She laughed. “Yes, it will actually, and I do love champagne. Plus I’m sure my sisters will come. It’s great having both of them here now.”
“I’m excited to do a show for you. I was thinking of Daffodil weekend, if that works for you? A lot of my New York friends said they’d be coming that weekend. Plus, it will be busy anyway.”
“It’s a crazy weekend. Every year it’s busier than the year before as more people hear about it. That weekend would be fine with me. Better than fine, actually. I appreciate it.” Having a show that weekend was huge. It would be a wonderful chance for her work to be exposed to a wider audience than usual.
“It will be fun. Oh, and I’d like to set up an auction for your new painting with a minimum starting bid.” He mentioned an initial price that was more than twice what Kristen had ever sold a painting for. The thought made her nervous. What if it was too much, and no one bid? She voiced the concern, and he chuckled.
“I’m actually tempted to start even higher, but I want as many people bidding as possible. It will drive the price even higher. Some of my friends can be competitive when they want the same thing.”
Kristen thought he was crazy. But he was the expert.
“Trust me. It will work out fine,” he assured her.
They split a piece of chocolate pecan pie for dessert, and Kristen was happily stuffed. It had been a long day and a surprisingly fun dinner. She enjoyed Andrew’s company. He insisted on paying the bill and while he was signing the charge slip, she took a long look at him.
The Nantucket Inn Page 12
